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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28720407">Forgotten Day</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomePiece/pseuds/SomePiece'>SomePiece</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>2nd person POV, Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:08:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>996</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28720407</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomePiece/pseuds/SomePiece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One overworked idiot (Law) forgot about his own birthday.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Trafalgar D. Water Law/Original Character(s), Trafalgar D. Water Law/Reader, Trafalgar D. Water Law/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Forgotten Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He dozed off.</p>
<p>Law didn’t know how long he was asleep before he knocked down the ink bottle. The bang of crushed glass brought him back to life, but before he lifted his head some of the ink already spilled all over his notes and stained his sleeve. Muttering curses he rushed to save his work. Days, if not weeks, of research were drowning right in front of him in dark liquid, words patiently scribbled on paper blurred and melted into unreadable smudges. At least, the most important, almost ready list of targets survived with only its corner dirty - but all the bounty posters, the haul his crew had been patiently collecting for months, could be only trashed. Furious, he threw the wet pile on the other side of the desk. Obviously, he made even more mess; a calendar fell this time and Law barely stopped the domino effect when it leaned against books. He sighed. He was too tired for this shit. He had no proper sleep since they had docked on this island.<b><br/></b></p>
<p>Without any unnecessary moves, he carefully cleaned the ink, grouped the notes on those he had to throw away and those he could still save, threw hoodie on laundry pile (without Bepo’s intervention it probably had already developed a civilisation) and, finally, started to putting everything back on its place. Few smudges of ink on the calendar grasped his attention, his eyes skimmed along dates and fine notes on the margin to stop in the place someone’s beloved hand marked with multiple hearts.</p>
<p>Oh. So it was <em>that</em> day.</p>
<p>Law somehow never got attached to the idea of celebrating birthdays. Even back then, in the times he refused to remember, it never was a big deal. At some point the crew got into the habit of dropping small parties for the birthday person and as he was never for, he also wasn’t against it. If they had time (and booze) they were getting some drinks and shared their victim’s favorite snacks. Last year as a present he got an onigiri birthday cake - and well, at a mere thought of it, Law’s stomach loudly protested. When was the last time he ate? He wasn’t sure. He forbade everyone interrupting his work, so the crew probably ignored the celebration this time or treated themselves in the absence of the captain.<b><br/></b></p>
<p>He tried to get up and his legs almost gave up under his weight; a painful cramp ran through his left calf. Yes, definitely too less food and too much caffeine. </p>
<p>“Physician, heal yourself”, he grizzled and limped towards the kitchen. In fear of late night thieves (Law wasn’t without guilt here), the cook was hiding food, but there was always a hope for some leftovers. Law was so hungry he would consider even a piece of old and parched bread. Anything to fill the stomach that was screaming for mercy.</p>
<p>Much to his surprise, something was left on the main counter. Law, a bit suspicious, turned the light on and almost gasped. Was he dreaming? A big onigiri, neatly wrapped in a yellow ribbon, with nori barely holding together the huge amount of rice and - as he confirmed after closer inspection - tuna with mayo. When he took it, something slid off the counter. At first he wanted to ignore it, too busy stuffing his mouth with delicious and much needed snack, but something in his head told him to pick it up and look closely. Law immediately recognized your handwriting: ‘Happy Birthday. I hope you’re not overworking yourself again.’ and few hearts, imitating his tattoos. Nothing more, nothing else.</p>
<p>“I hope you’re not overworking yourself”, he read, aloud this time, and chuckled. Was there even one task he had ever done <em>without</em> overworking himself? Another cramp got his leg, so hard he almost choked on his birthday onigiri. Well, so much of your hope. But maybe indeed he could rest a bit? As a birthday treat. And a word of thanks for you.</p>
<p>Instead of getting back to his study, Law headed towards your shared bedroom. Since the Polar Tang was docked, there was some natural moonlight pouring through the windows and he could see your silhouette curled on the bed. He quickly - tho not without painful complications - got out of shoes and jeans as well and joined you, careful to not wake you up. Yet, as soon as his ice cold hands touched your skin, as his goatee grazed your neck when he hugged you from behind and wrapped his limbs around you, you let out a surprised, dizzy with sleep, gasp and turned to face him.<b><br/></b></p>
<p>“Shhh, it’s alright.” Law kissed your cheek. “It’s only me.”</p>
<p>“What time is it?” You mumbled, barely awake. You made yourself cozy in his embrace, trying to blend in with the position he chose. </p>
<p>“To hell with time.” He caught your lips and sealed the kiss. There was still some lingering taste of toothpaste on you, Law savored it as if he was drinking the finest wine on this side of the Grandline. When parting for a breath, he playfully tugged your lower lip and sucked on it. You mewled and squirmed in his arms. “I missed you so much, you know, (Name)?”</p>
<p>“Mhhh?” </p>
<p>“Nothing, nothing.” He nuzzled up your nape, trying to not tickle you too much with the scruff. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>His fingers tangled in your hair as he was slowly putting you back to sleep, your breath calming, your muscles relaxing with every skilled move of his hands against your skin. Soon, his body gave up to exhaustion, his tense mind calmed down at the scent and warmth of your body. Last thing he was before his eyes closed for the well deserved sleep was a smudge of ink he left on your shoulder.</p>
<p>“Maybe I should have taken shower”, he murmured. </p>
<p>You were in his arms and his dreams. And Law knew it was the best he could ask for.</p>
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